Merry Team Xmas
by BrownEyedDevil
Summary: Wade found... God, Logan gets broody and Victor is in a festive mood? Oh my. Expect language and crack because I AM BACK. Sort of.


**So. I'm not dead. Just moved back to the land of the ferals, lumberjacks, wolves and moose that trudge through your street and flannel. All that glorious, glorious flannel. This oneshot has been started two years ago I believe? Sounds about right. Anyway. Tis the season again and I finally sorta finished it a few minutes ago. It might interest you, some of you, that I have been working on my open stories for this fandom whenever I could (which wasn't often but hey). Soon. Bahahaha.**

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It is a lovely winter day, snowflakes are slowly descending upon the ground already covered by over a foot of snow. The lovely white lets even the drab military base look somewhat festive. It is December, the 24th to be precise, and not a single person is to see outside, aside from two poor guys who are on watch duty. The base is equipped with state of the art security systems (note the plural here) but our old pal Stryker can't let go of the past, he is old fashioned that way. A top secret military base-so top secret it is hiding in plain sight-has to be guarded by men and watchdogs. So there has to be room in the budget for those poor two guys, one of them is clearly lacking the military spirit, he is wearing a Santa hat-and Rover. Rover is a shepherd that has seen better days. He is thirteen and likes to curl up on his fuzzy blanket in some place warm. And his little, old teddy bear.

Since it is so cold out here and we have sufficiently established how ridiculous the base looks on the outside, let's go in.

The steely gray of the walls immediately makes us feel right at home and we will ignore the various dents and claw marks everywhere. To our right are several doors leading to what we can only assume are sleeping quarters, hence the wonderful cacophony of several men snoring with all their might.

One of the doors slides open and Wade walks out, whistling to himself. He has stayed up late, sitting on his bed with his laptop, surfing the web doing god-knows-what. And he does know. One would assume he watched porn, talked to 45-year old housewives from Alabama pretending to be 22-year old models from New York or chatted to like-minded friends from the prankster network. But oh no. Wade Wilson is a new man. Wade Wilson finally found his OTR. His One True Religion.

Ladies and gentleman (in case there IS a male reader among you), Wade Wilson is a proud Pastafarian.

So in spirit of the Holiday-Pastafarians do not celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanzaa, they generally call the festive season around December Holiday and since the only dogma allowed that there is no dogma there is also no tradition or rituals-Wade has decided to do something festive.

That also might explain the pirate outfit he is wearing. One could ask why he has had a pirate outfit ready and just sitting there, he thinks it is divine intervention. The Flying Spaghetti Monster has had it's noodly appendage in it somehow. You might start to see why this religion appeals to Mr. Wilson here.

In the common room, somebody has put up a picture of Stryker and glued a Santa hat to his head-surprisingly enough it was not Wade, but he stops and appreciates the work of art. Other than that, there is no hint to the holiday whatsoever. The team consists to 100% of males and they agreed to 100% that Christmas decorations were for pansies. They did not ask Zero and Bradley had not been available for the poll, he had been in his room, working on a few gadgets to add to the colorful mess that had almost been destroyed recently. A certain clawed feral found it very hard to sleep while trains were tooting, things were spinning and overall making little noises. Victor was however not and never will be annoyed by the snoring concert going on every night. Partially because he is one of the loudest, his roars only drowned out by Dukes, who has gained an impressive amount of mass over the years.

A low fizzle, barely audible, and John Wraith appears right next to Wade, who is still gawking tat the Stryker Santa.

"Whoa there cowboy, can't you just pop up somewhere else?"

"Good morning to you too, Mr. Wilson."

Wraith tips his cowboy hat and strolls over to the TV area, throws himself onto the couch and, feet resting on the battered coffee table, pulls his hat down over his face to rest some more. They have a few days off without permission to leave base, there isn't much they can do.

Heavy footsteps in the hall have John pull his hat deeper and Wade straightening up, face alight with cheer, cheeks rosy like a little kid on Christmas. Here comes his favourite person to piss off, even better than Stryker, the almighty Victor Creed. In the same clothes he wore the day before, with those same food stains, looking as annoyed as usual. He even looks angry when he sleeps, Wade dared to check once. He quickly regretted it when Victor's hand shot up and almost crushed his voice box. And the guy didn't even open his eyes!

"Good morning sunshine! Happy Holiday! Can't you get in a festive spirit and shower for once?"

Victor bares his fangs, more in a soundless snarl than in a grin. Wade is so excited he is almost dancing on his toes now.

"Is it Halloween already or are you practicin' for your big gig at the gay bar?"

Feigning hurt he places both hands on his chest.

"Aw, you know, it really hurts if a big, dumb and dirty kitty dishes out the incredibly unwitty blows like that. It is in honor of his Noodliness, the great Flying Spaghetti Monster that I am wearing this festive outfit. Say, where is your nanny? Ah, there she comes."

Victor's reply to that is "….", accompanied by a glare as he tries to comprehend the words Wade just uttered. It was English and those were real words, together they didn't make much sense to him though. All that registered was the jab he took at Logan, who is currently walking in, unlit cigar stump in his mouth, freshly showered and shaven (so the mutton chops just grew back, looking soft and shiny).

"What the fuck is wrong with you Wade? Yer lookin' fer some action today? Head over to the other soldier's barracks, they might enjoy yer company."

Having successfully made fun of the pirate in shiny silk pants Logan sits down on the table with his favorite morning drink, a beer, and stares at the wall. He does that a lot. Staring at the wall, brooding.

"Are you trying to burn holes into the wall so you can spy on Zero when he gets dressed?"

Logan growls, but doesn't reply. He doesn't even take his gaze off the wall, which would normally egg Wade on to try some more, but the room is full of others he can annoy. More importantly, the room is full of Victor.

With a bright smile he slides closer to Victor, who is having breakfast, a raw steak, while standing up right next to the fridge. There is a kitchen but with their odd working hours they have a fridge in the common room well stocked with enough snacks to feed them. If Dukes hasn't gotten to it, that is.

"So, big guy. Wanna hear everything about His Noodlyness who has touched me with his noodly appendage last night?"

"I'm eatin', Wade. An' I don't wanna hear any of the things you did with your boyfriend last night."

Wade giggles as Victor spits out a bone and carelessly throws it towards the sink. They are in charge of keeping their quarters clean and will all be punished as a team but he knows that Bradley will most likely go and clean it up for him later. If not, he will make him.

"I was hoping you would latch on to that, you guys hanging out in closets always do. And now don't claim that you only sit in the closet because you want to come across as creepy and want to scare people…"

His rant is cut short when Victor's large hand lands right on top of his head with an audible crack, sending him straight to the floor with his eyes rolled back. Victor has seen a guy do this with his alarm clock in a movie the other night and had wanted to try it on Wade ever since. Now opportunity has presented itself.

"I don't condone your methods of winning an argument Victor, but this time it was necessary."

John is still hiding under his cowboy hat but now his mouth is visible under the rim and it displays the hint of a smile. They have been confined in their quarters for a few days now and Wade has gotten on all their nerves. Except Bradley, who is never annoyed, and Dukes, who's spirit is just as immovable as his body.

"I think he finally took that last step over the edge."

Logan has stopped staring at the wall and is now looking at Wade's unconscious form on the floor.

"A pirate costume? Flying spaghettis?"

"Did someone say spaghetti?"

Dukes comes waltzing around the corner, carrying an impressive gut in front of him. Everyone has wondered how one man can gain so much weight in so little time, but then again the military drill has been abandoned for a few weird and quite useless missions lately.

"Wade claims to worship a plate of spaghetti or somethin'."

Victor hasn't bothered to try and make sense of Wilson's ramblings and is currently digging through the fridge, looking for more meat to sink his teeth into.

"Well, if the sauce is good…"

Dukes pushes Victor aside and retrieves a few boxes of Hungry Man before walking over to the microwave. In his opinion the worship of food isn't as far fetched as others might think. Victor growls at this display of lacking respect and claws at Dukes' head. He goes on unwrapping his meals as if nothing has happened. That only pisses off Victor more (and honestly, what wouldn't), so when Wade groans from his spot on the floor and tries to move, Victor pounces with a snarl that makes everyone but Logan pause. Logan can never pause his brooding and he has been around his brother for way too long to be surprised by something as common as this. The only thing that could throw him off balance would be a joking, laughing Victor in a Christmas sweater. Decorating the room. Logan shudders and drains his second beer. Horrible imagery right there.

Victor throws Wade over his shoulder and begins to hum while he slowly makes his way out of the room. Now he is singing under his breath. "Deck the halls with guts of Wilson" is all they can hear and they look at each other, concerned.

"Well, if even Victor gets into the holiday spirit... I could zap outta here and get us some Christmas stuff."

No matter how reluctant, they all agree. It is Christmas after all.


End file.
